


Descendent

by blamography



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Day 2, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-15
Updated: 2011-03-15
Packaged: 2017-10-17 00:01:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/170777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blamography/pseuds/blamography
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Well, it's not like there's any way to be no one's descendent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Descendent

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sophia_sol](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophia_sol/gifts).



Anathema Device had always been a descendent, yes, but it occurred t her suddenly that most everyone was a descendent of some sort, everyone except Adam. Even Eve was a descendent, although her progenitor had been mainly bone and therefore incapable of burdening her with a book full of Nife and Accurate Prophecies. And none of that explained why she had yet to throw out the Further Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch.

She had yet to satisfactorily explain this to Newt, and also had yet to satisfactorily try to explain this to Newt or even satisfactorily think about trying to explain this to Newt. Newt was tall and dark and while not handsome, certainly understanding, and she rather had the feeling that if he was the sort who could be scared off he would have been scared off, but she could not explain why. And she knew that since he’d been there since shortly before that thing that happened which, well, had happened and which really bore no thought, he certainly understood the importance of prophecies. He was, after all, a witch hunter.

Anathema had never planned on having children because she had never planned on living past that thing that happened. If she did have children she supposed they would be descendents, too, and wondered if that would bother them terribly. Perhaps the burden of being a descendent of Agnes Nutter (and Anathema Device) would be cancelled out somewhat by being a descendent of Newton Pulsifier.

She had considered hiding the book somewhere (underneath the bed, perhaps, or in a particularly dusty corner, the sort which absolutely everyone is loathe to think about, much less clean) and then remembered that even if Newt noticed she had kept it, he probably would not say anything about it, much less do anything about it. He was nice, really, if not in the older sense of the word.

And so Anathema Device left the Further Nife and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Concerning the Worlde that Is To Com; Ye Saga Continuef! in between an almanac and an old dictionary, where, in case the mystical equivalent of the sudden need to know how likely it is to rain come the autumnal equinox, or perhaps curiosity regarding the etymology of such a word as ‘etymology’, there they would be, and so it was.


End file.
